


The Tangled Web

by orphan_account



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, Nightvale is bad for Interns, No matter where they are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:59:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1742342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos lived an ordinary life. And he was happy(bored). When he is suddenly assigned to study the strange town of Night Vale, he is understandably upset (excited). Could this be the adventure that he's been waiting for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tangled Web

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally had the prologue and part of the first chapter of this story sitting in a notebook that found its way under my bed. Whelp might as post it and see if there are any takers....

Prologue

Carlos Dabalos was not a man given to fits of rage. His students via “RateMyProfessor.com” all called him the most laid back and positively chill physics professor that taught at the small university in Southern California.

He was a tall man in his mid thirties with thick, dark hair that fell about his face in wave. He had a strong square jaw, and white teeth that shone whenever he smiled. He had wide, broad shoulders that led to thick strong arms and a well toned, muscular body. He never dressed too fancy, preferring a pair of plain fitted jeans and a button-up flannel shirt with boots to the typical suit and tie teacher ensemble. When in the lab, he usually slipped a plain white lab-coat over his clothing.

He was well aware that most of the female student- and some the males- that populated his lectures were only there to gawk and fawn over his appearance. He'd seen more than a few chili peppers on his RMP profile.

It made no difference to him. The only thing that Carlos really cared about was the work. And oh how he loved his work. In his lab, Carlos was in complete control. He was Lord and Master.

The interns who worked for him were a fantastic group of grad students and his assistant, Aiden , was absolutely irreplaceable.

While, teaching, he strictly adhered to the state educational guidelines for college curriculum but in his personal research, his interests strayed toward the unknown and the strange.

He'd developed several theories surrounding thermonuclear aerodynamics- that is, worm holes and separate dimensions.

He was absolutely devoted to his theories, unlike any other physicist he knew. 

He'd lost count of the amount of the times he'd been laughed out of a conference or the ridicule and notes he'd found taped to his computer or written in sharpie on his desk.

He was aware that his theories were a tad... outlandish. But wasn't that the nature of science? To propose wild theories and formulas and then attempt to prove them?

Okay, so maybe he hadn't done so well on the actual “proof” part of the equation, but it was coming. He just needed more time and the right equation.

It would happen, he would tell his team after another failed experiment. They just had to be patient and not give in to frustration.

~ ~ ~

Carlos Dabalos was not a man given to fits of rage. He was calm and detached. Always connveying information in the most concise and effective manner possible.

He led a fairly normal life. He woke up at precisely seven am every morning and had a shower that lasted no more than fifteen minutes. After a shave and dressing, he ate a breakfast of toast with jam and butter and drank a cup of Folger's coffee with 1tbsp of french vanilla Coffee Mate Creamer and 1 ½ tbsp of white granulated sugar.

After finsihing his morning cup of coffee and making sure that he looked presentable, he checked through his notes for the day and walked out of his tidy one bedroom apartment and down the street to the university.

He always said hello to the kindly old man walking a very friendly corgi named Justin down the not yet busy street. 

After a busy day of classes and students, Carlos would walk back to his apartment, and change into running shorts, tennis shoes and a white t-shirt. He would walk down to the students rec center and work out for an hour before walking back and changing back into his work clothes. 

After a quick meal of whatever happened to be edible in his fridge, he would travel back to the science and tech building on the university and work in his lab until late in the night before trudging home and falling into bed for sleep.

~ ~ ~

Carlos Dabalos was not a man given to fits of rage. He led a decent, if not somewhat mundane (horribly boring) life and could say that he was reasonably (un)satisfied.

He had two wonderful and loving parents who-though they didn't always understand his work- supported him without question.

He liked his neighbors who were as predictable as he was. He never ever (always, every day) thought about wanting more. A day in the lab was more than enough (definitely not enough) adventure for him. What was in the college union's special hot dog sauce was enough (hardly enough) mystery (and one he would very much like to remain a mystery) for a lifetime. 

And what about love? Well, Carlos had learned to be content with himself, his students and his lab. Between the latter two, there was simply no time to devote to a significant other. 

Not that he hadn't tried. He'd had relationships before, but they were always short lived and never ended well, so what was the point anyway. He knew that his mother was disappointed in the fact that she wasn't to be a grandmother anytime soon, but she was always adamant that he should go at his own pace and find love in his own time.

Carlos was not hopeful. But he was happy(bored) with hie life and all its normalcy.

~ ~ ~

Carlos Dabalos was not a man given to fits of rage.

At least, that is what he told himself as he stared at the letter gripped tightly in his bronzed fingers, saying that he had one week to pack his bags and move to New Mexico.

Carlos Dabalos was not a man given to fits of rage.

Ah well. There was always a first time for everything.

Prologue/End


End file.
